


Of Sun and Shadows

by M_malf0y



Category: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alarkling - Freeform, Alina Starkov is Still a Sun Summoner, Alternate Ending - Ruin and Rising, Angst, Book 2: Siege and Storm, Character Death, Darklina - Freeform, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Lovers, Eternal Life, F/M, Heroes to Villains, King - Freeform, King and Queen, Loss of Trust, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neglect, Not Canon Compliant, Possible Character Death, Power Couple, Power Dynamics, Power hungry, Soldat Sol, Trauma, War, kinda slow burn, mal hate club, position of power, possible smut idk yet, ravkan civil war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_malf0y/pseuds/M_malf0y
Summary: “No,” I snapped, finally meeting his gaze and refusing to shift under it.“No, what?”“We aren’t doing this. You aren’t going to manipulate me, or play me like a fiddle just as you did when I first arrived at the Little Palace. I won’t play your games anymore.”“Ah, you say that now. But what if the life of your tracker, or prince was on the line? It’s the fiddle’s job to be played, after all.” His smirk only grew wider as I let those words sink in. He was ruthless. The Darkling would not hesitate to throw Mal or Nikolai’s life on the line just to get me to do his bidding. To be the fiddle.Siege and Storm AU where Alina was never able to escape the Little Palace after The Darkling attacked. (Obvious Shadow and Bone trilogy spoilers)•previously titled “stay”•
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning half of this chapter is directly taken from Siege and Storm by Leigh Bardugo. All credits go to her.

I stared off into the distance, wondering how it all went so wrong.

  
“Stand down, Alina,” said the Darkling. His cool voice echoed through the chapel, cutting through the noise and chaos. “Stand down, and I will spare them.”

In answer, Tamar scraped one axe blade over the other, raising a horrible shriek of metal on metal. The sun soldiers lifted their rifles, and I heard the sound of Inferni flint being struck.

“Look around, Alina,” the Darkling said. “You cannot win. You can only watch them die. Come to me now, and I will do them no harm—not your zealot soldiers, not even the Grisha traitors.”

I took in the nightmare of the chapel. The _nichevo’ya_ swarmed above us, crowding up against the inside of the dome. They clustered around the Darkling in a dense cloud of bodies and wings. Through the windows I could see more, hovering in the twilight sky.

The sun soldiers’ faces were determined, but their ranks had been badly thinned. One of them had pimples on his chin. Beneath his tattoo, he didn’t look much older than twelve. They needed a miracle from their Saint, one I couldn’t perform.

Tolya cocked the triggers on his pistols.

“Hold,” I said.

“Alina,” Tamar whispered, “we can still get you out.”

“Hold,” I repeated.

The sun soldiers lowered their rifles. Tamar brought her axes to her hips but kept her grip tight.

“What are your terms?” I asked.

Mal frowned. Tolya shook his head. I didn’t care. I knew it might be a ploy, but if there was even a chance of saving their lives, I had to take it.

“Give yourself up,” said the Darkling. “And they all go free. They can climb down that rabbit hole and disappear forever.”

“Free?” Sergei whispered.

“He’s lying,” said Mal. “It’s what he does.”

“I don’t need to lie,” said the Darkling. “Alina wants to come with me.”

“She doesn’t want any part of you,” Mal spat.

“No?” the Darkling asked. His dark hair gleamed in the lamplight of the chapel. Summoning his shadow army had taken its toll. He was thinner, paler, but somehow the sharp angles of his face had only become more beautiful. “I warned you that your _otkazat’sya_ could never understand you, Alina. I told you that he would only come to fear you and resent your power. Tell me I was wrong.”

“You were wrong.” My voice was steady, but doubt rustled in my heart.

The Darkling shook his head. “You cannot lie to me. Do you think I could have come to you again and again, if you had been less alone? You called to me, and I answered.”

I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. “You … you were there?”

“On the Fold. In the palace. Last night.”

I flushed as I remembered his body on top of mine. Shame washed through me, but with it came overwhelming relief. I hadn’t imagined it all.

“That isn’t possible,” Mal bit out.

“You have no idea what I can make possible, tracker.”

I shut my eyes.

“Alina—”

“I’ve seen what you truly are,” said the Darkling, “and I’ve never turned away. I never will. Can he say the same?”

“You don’t know anything about her,” Mal said fiercely.

“Come with me now, and it all stops—the fear, the uncertainty, the bloodshed. Let him go, Alina. Let them all go.”

“No,” I said. But even as I shook my head, something in me cried out, Yes.

The Darkling sighed and glanced back over his shoulder. “Bring her,” he said.

A figure shuffled forward, draped in a heavy shawl, hunched and slow-moving, as if every step brought pain. Baghra.

My stomach twisted sickly. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she have gone with Nikolai? Unless Nikolai had never made it out.

The Darkling laid a hand on Baghra’s shoulder. She flinched.

“Leave her alone,” I said angrily.

“Show them,” he said.

She unwound her shawl. I drew in a sharp breath. I heard someone behind me moan.

It was not Baghra. I didn’t know what it was. The bites were everywhere, raised black ridges of flesh, twisting lumps of tissue that could never be healed, not by Grisha hand or by any other, the unmistakable marks of the _nichevo’ya._ Then I saw the faded flame of her hair, the lovely amber hue of her one remaining eye.

“Genya,” I gasped.

We stood in terrible silence. I took a step toward her. Then David pushed past me down the altar steps. Genya cringed away from him, pulling up her shawl, and turned to hide her face.

David slowed. He hesitated. Gently, he reached out to touch her shoulder. I saw the rise and fall of her back, and knew she was crying.

I covered my mouth as a sob tore free from my throat.

I’d seen a thousand horrors on this long day, but this was the one that broke me, Genya cringing away from David like a frightened animal. Luminous Genya, with her alabaster skin and graceful hands. Resilient Genya, who had endured countless indignities and insults, but who had always held her lovely chin high. Foolish Genya, who had tried to be my friend, who had dared to show me mercy.

David drew his arm around Genya’s shoulders and slowly led her back up the aisle. The Darkling didn’t stop them.

“I’ve waged the war you forced me to, Alina,” said the Darkling. “If you hadn’t run from me, the Second Army would still be intact. All those Grisha would still be alive. Your tracker would be safe and happy with his regiment. When will it be enough? When will you let me stop?”

 _You cannot be helped. Your only hope was to run._ Baghra was right. I’d been a fool to think I could fight him. I’d tried, and countless people had lost their lives for it.

“You mourn the people killed in Novokribirsk,” the Darkling continued, “the people lost to the Fold. But what of the thousands that came before them, given over to endless wars? What of the others dying now on distant shores? Together, we can put an end to all of it.”

Reasonable. Logical. For once, I let the words in. An end to all of it.

It’s over.

I should have felt beaten down by the thought, defeated, but instead it filled me with a curious lightness. Hadn’t some part of me known it would end this way all along?

The moment the Darkling had slipped his hand over my arm in the Grisha pavilion so long ago, he’d taken possession of me. I just hadn’t realized it.

“All right,” I whispered.

“Alina, _no!_ ” Mal said furiously.

“You’ll let them go?” I asked. “All of them?”

“We need the tracker,” said the Darkling. “For the firebird.”

“He goes free. You can’t have both of us.”

The Darkling paused, then nodded once. I knew he thought he would find a way to claim Mal. Let him believe it. I would never let it happen.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mal said through clenched teeth.

I turned to Tolya and Tamar. “Take him from here. Even if you have to carry him.”

“Alina—”

“We won’t go,” said Tamar. “We are sworn.”

“You will.”

Tolya shook his huge head. “We pledged our lives to you. All of us.”

I turned to face them. “Then do as I command,” I said. “Tolya Yul-Baatar, Tamar Kir-Baatar, you will take these people from here to safety.” I summoned the light, letting it blaze in a glorious halo around me. A cheap trick, but a good one. Nikolai would have been proud. “Do not fail me.”

Tamar had tears in her eyes, but she and her brother bowed their heads.

Mal hooked my arm and turned me around roughly. “What are you doing?”

“I want this.” I need it. Sacrifice or selfishness, it didn’t matter anymore.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I can’t run from what I am, Mal, from what I’m becoming. I can’t bring the Alina you knew back, but I can set you free.”

“You can’t … you can’t choose him.”

“There isn’t any choice to make. This is what was meant to be.” It was true. I felt it in the collar, in the weight of the fetter. For the first time in weeks, I felt strong.

He shook his head. “This is all wrong.” The look on his face almost undid me. It was lost, startled, like a little boy standing alone in the ruin of a burning village. “Please, Alina,” he said softly. “Please. This can’t be how it ends.”

I rested my hand on his cheek, hoping that there was still enough between us that he would understand. I stood on my toes and kissed the scar on his jaw.

“I have loved you all my life, Mal,” I whispered through my tears. “There is no end to our story.”

I stepped back, memorizing every line of his beloved face. Then I turned and walked up the aisle. My steps were sure. Mal would have a life. He’d find his purpose. I had to seek mine. Nikolai had promised me a chance to save Ravka, to make amends for all I’d done. He’d tried, but it was the Darkling’s gift to give.

“Alina!” Mal shouted. I heard scuffling behind me and knew Tolya had taken hold of him. “Alina!” His voice was raw white wood, torn from the heart of a tree. I did not turn.

The Darkling stood waiting, his shadow guard hovering and shifting around him.

I was afraid, but beneath the fear, I was eager.

“We are alike,” he said, “as no one else is, as no one else will ever be.”

The truth of it rang through me. Like calls to like.

He held out his hand, and I stepped into his arms.

I cupped the back of his neck, feeling the silken brush of his hair on my fingertips. I knew Mal was watching. I needed him to turn away. I needed him to go. I tilted my face up to the Darkling’s.

“My power is yours,” I whispered.

I saw the elation and triumph in his eyes as he lowered his mouth to mine. Our lips met, and the connection between us opened. This was not the way he’d touched me in my visions, when he’d come to me as shadow. This was real, and I could drown in it.

Power flowed through me—the power of the stag, its strong heart beating in both our bodies, the life he’d taken, the life I’d tried to save. But I also felt the Darkling’s power, the power of the Black Heretic, the power of the Fold.

Like calls to like. I’d sensed it when the Hummingbird entered the Unsea, but I’d been too afraid to embrace it. This time, I didn’t fight. I let go of my fear, my guilt, my shame. There was darkness inside me. He had put it there, and I would no longer deny it. The volcra, the nichevo’ya, they were my monsters, all of them. And he was my monster, too.

“My power is yours,” I repeated. His arms tightened around me. “And yours is mine,” I whispered against his lips.

 _Mine._

The word reverberated through me, through both of us. The shadow soldiers shifted and whirred.

I remembered the way it had felt in that snowy glade, when the Darkling had placed the collar around my neck and seized control of my power. I reached across the connection between us.

He reared back. “What are you doing?”

I knew why he had never intended to kill the sea whip himself, why he hadn’t wanted to form that second connection. He was afraid.

_Mine._

I forced my way across the bond forged by Morozova’s collar and grabbed hold of the Darkling’s power.

Darkness spilled from him, black ink from his palms, billowing and skittering, blooming into the shape of a _nichevo’ya_ , forming hands, head, claws, wings. The first of my abominations.

The Darkling tried to pull away from me, but I clutched him tighter, calling his power, calling the darkness as he had once used the collar to summon my light.

Another creature burst forth, and then another. The Darkling cried out as it was wrenched from him. I felt it too, felt my heart constrict as each shadow soldier tore a little bit of me away, exacting the price of its creation.

“Stop,” the Darkling rasped.

The _nichevo’ya_ whirred nervously around us, clicking and humming, faster and faster. One after another, I pulled my dark soldiers into being, and my army rose up around us.

The Darkling groaned, and so did I. We fell against each other, but still I did not relent.

“You’ll kill us both!” he cried.

“Yes,” I said.

The Darkling’s legs buckled, and we collapsed to our knees.

This was not the Small Science. This was magic, something ancient, the making at the heart of the world. It was terrifying, limitless. No wonder the Darkling hungered for more.

The darkness buzzed and clattered, a thousand locusts, beetles, hungry flies, clicking their legs, beating their wings. The nichevo’ya wavered and re-formed, whirring in a frenzy, driven on by his rage and my exultation.

Another monster. Another. Blood was pouring from the Darkling’s nose. The room seemed to rock, and I realized I was convulsing. I was dying, bit by bit, with every monster that wrenched itself free.

Just a little longer, I thought. Just a few more. Just enough so I know that I’ve sent him to the next world before I follow.

“Alina!” I heard Mal calling as if from a great distance. He was tugging at me, pulling me away

“No!” I shouted. “Let me end this.”

“Alina!”

As soon as Mal touched my wrist, I felt the connection break off, but the hunger for power only grow. A burst of light exploded from my skin, burning his hand and causing him to pull away, in either pain or fear. I couldn’t tell. I had to keep him away from me. I had to finish this. Yet, when I turned back around to meet him, The Darkling was back on his feet, summoning shadows to encase everything. He was unsteady on his feet, weakened by my grasp on his power.

Mal’s voice cried out for me in the darkness, but I ignored it. My head was spinning from exhaustion. It was too much all at once. I wasn’t strong enough, but I would be with the firebird. And, in that moment, I realized that The Darkling would be the one to get it for me. Mal was a talented tracker, but I was sure he would never help me more than he already has. He feared my power. He feared _me._

I was blinded by the pure nothingness of shadows that The Darkling casted, but I coil feel him closing in. My skin still held a subtle glow, but only enough for me to see what was directly next to me. I tried to summon, but only a small flicker of light burst from my palm, before fading away. People were panicking, feeling around in the dark for something to hold onto. 

My body wobbled, weakened and tired as I struggled to remain on my feet. I had to get everyone out of here. But as my body began to fall to the ground, I felt a surge of power, and then the world was finally black.

  
  


All I was met with in the morning was the pounding of my own head, and weakness of my body. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was as if my eyelids were stapled down, unable to lift themselves up no matter how hard I protested. I knew that my body was encased in soft silk sheets, as I moved my aching muscles around in an attempt to regain control of myself. I couldn’t remember what was true, or what was a horrible nightmare. Was the battle all fabricated in my mind? Would I open my eyes to see myself back in the Darkling’s Chambers, Nikolai still complaining about the birthday feast? 

Taking in a deep breath, I was flooded with the scent of him. I was there. In his old chambers, encased by his smell, which never faded. It was all just a horrible nightmare. I went to turn my body over in an attempt to wrap myself tighter in the silk, but the moment I tried to move, every cell in my body lit aflame with pain all over again. What small period of relief I had was squashed as soon as I heard a cool, cut-glass voice from the corners that wrapped around my body like a cold embrace.

“You’re conscious,” The Darkling said simply. My eyes flew open in a frantic manner, scanning the room until I saw him. He had never even lifted his head from the book in his hands. Vision still blurred by sleep, I scanned his handsome features, horror stricken by the fact that his skin showed flaws. Faint scars ran themselves down his complexion, and his cheekbones more prominent from his slimming figure. He was really here. I was living a nightmare.

When I didn’t respond to his greeting, he continued. “You’re little band of misfits made it out of the palace, as promised. A deal is a deal.” His tone was blank and expressionless as those quartz eyes droned over the pages of writing. “Although, consider it a play at mercy, being as you do not seem to share the same beliefs, my Alina.”

 _Mercy._ The word escaped his mouth like something uncommon, or unwelcome. “What happened?” was all I managed to get out.

“As I once said, I do make mistakes. Just not often. It seems to have been one of those rare occasions when I trusted you, Alina. It’s fair enough to say, being as you almost killed us both. Your beloved tracker ran out to play hero, yet when you let go of your hold on the tether, it was _my_ arms you chose to fall in.”

I felt it. The sure of power, flowing through my veins like it was meant to be. I had become an abomination just as The Darkling, and only then did I see the strands of white hair that cascaded down my scalp and onto the black pillow below my head. This was the price of creating that army last time we faced off. As if he could register the realization, The Darkling looked up from his book with a small smirt.

“Don’t worry, Solnishka. It looks lovely.”

“No,” I snapped, finally meeting his gaze and refusing to shift under it.

“No, what?”

“We aren’t doing this. You aren’t going to manipulate me, or play me like a fiddle just as you did when I first arrived at the Little Palace. I won’t play your games anymore.”

“Ah, you say that now. But what if the life of your tracker, or prince was on the line? It’s the fiddle’s job to be played, after all.” His smirk only grew wider as I let those words sink in. He was ruthless. The Darkling would not hesitate to throw Mal or Nikolai’s life on the line just to get me to do his bidding. To be the fiddle. 

“You’re-”

“A monster?” He cut me off. “While one could argue it’s accuracy, you’re becoming predictable, Alina. One insult used too many times diminishes it’s value.” He snapped the book shut, rising from the chair in the corner and stalking over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room. Beside it was a small chest, branded with his eclipse and bordered with radiant gold. Popping open the top swiftly, he pulled out luxurious black _kefta_. Now, not only was I imprisoned in the Little Palace, but I was also branded. I was his, and I hated it.

“I’m not wearing that,” I seethed, ready to set the black fabric aflame. 

“Oh, but you will. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to galavant around Os Alta in your undergarments. You are not just another summoner, Alina. You are my balance. My equal. You need to dress the part.” _Equal._ The word that was used all those months ago as a way to draw me in. The promise of power that once never appealed to me now seemed more and more useful. I could change the tides of the game he was playing and possibly take him down from the inside. I subconsciously rubbed my wrist where the firebird was supposed to sit, feeling the painful emptiness. I knew that The Darkling would lead me to it. He would be leading himself to his own doom.

I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of my surrender, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. That I was sure of. Nobody ever dared to disobey The Darkling. Either way, I needed to gain some sort of trust from him in order to have any shot at winning this game. I needed to use him as my fiddle just as he used me, no matter the cost.

“And how will I know I’m not being cheated?” I ask strongly, glaring into his silver gaze as he laid the kefta on the side of the mattress. It was then I realized how powerless I truly felt at the moment. I was sitting up in the bed of The Darkling’s chamber, completely drained, and without allies.

The Darkling moved swiftly over to where I sat, his black kefta flowing behind him with each stride. Hands, cold as ice, moved across the skin of my cheek, cupping my face. I felt the surge or surety, along with the twisting of my heart that I felt the day he kissed me. I shouldn’t be feeling this way-- with all the people he’s hurt, or the thing’s he’s done. He’s putting on a facade. None of this is real, just a mirror of human emotions.

“ _My_ Alina, I trust you’ll make the right decisions. Your tracker’s life will depend on it,” he whispered, and my breath swallowed as he lingered there. His face was too close to mine, yet I didn’t want to push away. He saw it too, as his lips slightly turned up into a smirk. He moved back, and began to make his way to the door before turning back to me. “I’ll see to it that your chambers are prepared by tonight. As for right now, you are to remain here until further notice.”

“I-”

The Darkling held up one slender finger to his lips, silencing me with a small _sush._ “You will do as I say, Alina. You and I both know what happens if you don’t. There is no place your tracker can hide from me. Same goes for your prince.” With that, he turned and strode out of the chamber, leaving me alone in the darkness. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is significantly shorter than the first, but it’s a filler :) 
> 
> •moya lyubov’ = my love

Passing the time was horrid. It seemed like the only thing I could do while trapped in The Darkling’s chambers was think about what went wrong. I _burned_ Mal. I hurt him. Even just for that moment, I allowed the power that consumed The Darkling consume me, and I hated myself for it. I waltzed around praising that he was a monster for chasing after something to make him stronger, yet here I was dreaming of the Firebird and the power I would possess with it’s bones on my wrist.

I was also still haunted by Genya. Beautiful Genya, now covered in deep black scars for simply being associated with me. Helping me. All I could see was her trembling figure, cloaked and hidden. I wanted to turn back time and stop all of this. Stop Mal and I from ever joining the first army. My powers would have died on the vine, and so many innocent lives would have been saved. Genya would still be flawless, Vasily would still be breathing, and I could have still been the orphan girl who liked to sit by the lake and just _breathe._

But that was no longer an option.

Somehow, I felt glad that Mal feared me. It sent a rush of adrenaline through my body. For the first time in a while, I felt truly alive. I could feel my powers growing inside of me, yearning for the last amplifier so I could be whole. Each time I tried to push the thoughts away, they would only return stronger than before. 

The Darkling’s chamber held no clock, so I had no way of telling the time. Minutes and hours became a blurred mess, and I had no idea how long I had been there before I gained any motivation to leave the bed. Muscles aching, I managed to get myself off the mattress and stretch out my limbs. Over in the corner sat a mirror, and I forced myself to go there first. My hair, once a delicate brunette, was now a colorless white. 

This was the cost of _merzost._ A constant reminder that I failed in pushing away the darkness for good. A reminder that I failed Ravka.

Yes, the night of power had left my skin glowing, despite the slimming of my features, just as The Darkling had. My cheekbones were more prominent, but I looked radiant. The white strands of hair that fell onto my shoulders were silky and smooth, free of knots as I ran my fingers through the gentle waves. It was a change, yes, but somehow, I felt more like myself.

I could hear Nikolai’s voice in my head. _New hair style, Sun Summoner? If you were looking for my attention, you already had it. All you had to do was say ‘hello’._ He always had a way with words: shower people with flattery, or drone on until they’re too confused to say no. 

Moments later, I tried to rest again, laying back down in the silk sheets, but Mal’s screams still echoed in my ears like he was beside me. _There is no end to our story._ Saints, I hoped I was right. I had no idea where he was. The Darkling said that he allowed everyone to escape the Little Palace, but could he have just been lying again? For all I know, Mal could be shackled in a cell by now. The Darkling was never merciful. 

Each time I began to drift to sleep, a memory of the attack would resurface, or even the screams of people I left in the fold all those months ago. I said I wasn’t like The Darkling, yet I let all those people die. They all probably had families, maybe even children. They didn’t know who they were standing with. They thought he was going to destroy the fold. They had hope. But now was not the time to dwell on the past. Those people were dead, and there was nothing I could do about it. The casualties at the attack on the palace too. 

After hours had passed of waiting, the once locked door of the chamber opened, and The Darkling stepped in.

“You never changed,” he stated simply, motioning to the black _kefta_ that sat untouched on the side of the mattress. I didn’t say a word, but I could sense his agitation through the tether. “Your chambers are ready, so I suggest getting dressed. I’ll be back to fetch you in a few minutes.” Then he was gone as fast as he appeared.

After I heard the small _click_ of the lock, I slowly got out of the bed and made my way to the _kefta._ It was branded with his eclipse. The deep, black, fabric just another way to claim me as his equal. Although, the only reason I suspect he calls me that is because I’m the only other person who can live for centuries. My life would mean nothing to him if I was just Alina Starkov, the mapmaker from the First Army.

The _kefta_ fit over my figure like a glove. It was perfectly stitched; not too heavy and not too light. I felt protected, yet vulnerable at the same time. Now, I was going to be put back on display like some prised possession. I was wearing his color, and now everyone would know. 

It was as I tied my now white hair back into a loose braid that The Darkling re-entered, simply motioning with his hand that I was to follow him. My pace was slow- not because I wanted it to be, but that my body ached in every place imaginable. Taking each step was like lighting my skin aflame over and over again. _Oprichniki_ surrounded us as we walked, but The Darkling kept an even pace with me. It was strange, but he never spared a glance in my direction. Be just kept his eyes forward and his hands clasped behind his back.

Our footsteps echoed through the halls, as The Darkling led me to my old chambers. I hadn’t been to the old chamber in months, but everything felt the same. Floors were too polished, designs too lavish and ugly. I hated it, and couldn’t help but remember The Darkling telling me the same thing.

It bothered me how I remembered his words so easily. Each conversation had been saved in my brain, stashed away to haunt me. I could make connections to his phrases each time I spoke strategy with Nikolai or Mal, hearing his cool voice ringing in the back of my head. But those moments weren’t the visits through tether, rather creations of my own mind. 

My room looked untouched, with the bed made and small comb still sitting on the table. Nobody had slept here, even when I was the head of the Second Army. Now, I’d lost that position and handed it over to The Darkling, leaving him with the power of both armies in his command. I hated to admit it, but I was currently standing with the King of Ravka. There was no Nikolai here to take the throne like we planned out, for he was hopefully long gone and safe with Baghra. That little gleam of hope we had flickered out, and I couldn’t summon it back.

With another simple wave of his hands, the _Oprichniki_ walked out of the room and shut the door behind them. 

“I was supposed to meet you here,” The Darkling said simply, pacing around the room. “I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I searched the palace, but you weren’t at the party. You left me.”

“And what reason did I have to stay?” I retorted. “I meant nothing to you other than power.”

“I had to earn your trust on more than one level.”

“So you made a fool of me?”

“You made a fool of yourself, my Alina.”

“Stop calling me that,” I snapped. “I’m not yours.”

“You and I are one in the same.”

“I am nothing like you.”

“We are two sides of the same eternal coin. We are power. Balance.”

“Those words mean nothing to me, _moi tsar._ ” The title rolled off my tongue like an insult, evident sarcasm dripping in my tone. But something dark flashed in his grey eyes. The darkling paced towards me slowly, his hand extending out to cup my cheek. I turned my head away.

“That title is lovely on your lips,” he said in a low growl. I clenched my jaw, turning my head farther. A part of me was still the naive girl who wanted to drown in his quartz gaze, and if I met his eyes, I knew she would come back. “And my offer still stands, _moya lyubov'._ Two thrones await us in the palace. Join me.”

“No.” Still, the voice inside me screamed _yes._

“Quite sad that the peasant’s _Sol Koroleva_ shys away from the title.”

“It was never one I earned.”

“You’d rather spend years with your tracker, perhaps? He will come to fear your powers, Alina. He will never love you for who you are, just who you used to be. You will live to see him die off, just like your Lantsov prince. You will be left with nothing. You and I are infinite.” His hand reached out to my cheek once more, but I did not jerk away. I allowed his palm to guide my gaze to his, yet I kept my glare strong. I didn’t want him to know how much I registered his words.

“I’d rather mourn the loss of someone I loved after spending a lifetime together than watch them from afar.”

“Those are the words of a fool.”

“The fool you just offered a throne.”

“Consider my offer, _moya lyubov_ ' _._ You will remain here until you have made a decision. I have matters to attend to.” With that, he grasped my hand and placed a gentle, cold kiss on my knuckles. I knew the game he was playing at. No matter how much I wanted to melt into it, I was no longer the naive girl who would trust the Starless Saint. His eyes never left mine as he dropped my hand, allowing a small hint of a smirk to grace his beautiful features before turning and walking out of the room. 

The gentle click of a lock told me that The Darkling was not one for bluffing. But I did know this man was one for mastering human emotions with a simple flick of a switch. There was no telling sign of what was real and what was fake. He now sits perched on a throne of lies, with all the power he worked for in his grasp. I was jealous, in a way. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but there was a throne in the palace, the throne of a queen, that was handed to me on a silver platter. I was a living Saint, the Sun Summoner, and an eternal being. Maybe, adding Queen of Ravka to the list would not be such a bad thing. 

Once again, my fingers rubbed the painfully bare skin of my wrist, the weight of the Firebird’s bones absent. I needed the amplifier. I would hold more power beyond imagination, and the thought excited me. 

_No,_ I told myself. _Don’t let him corrupt you._

But maybe he already had. Or, maybe I had done it to myself.

I didn’t know what the cost of the Firebird would be, other than another innocent life taken by my greed. Yet, how many more could I save with that power in my control? I could end wars with the palm of my hand, but something was holding me back. How many wars could I start because of it? It was a question I didn’t want to dwell on. I needed to become the Sankta the people needed me to be. If that included taking the throne, then so be it.

_NO!_ The voice in my head screamed again. It was as if my mind was being split in two. Once side, Alina Starkov, the other, The Sun Summoner. Once side craving peace, and the other, power. As of right now, power seems to be winning. 

_What would Mal say?_ What would he say? Mal was my best friend for years, and the boy I crushed on as we grew closer. What would he make of me now?

_His opinion is worthless,_ another voice in my head protested. It was my voice, but resembled The Darkling’s cool tone too much for my liking. _He fears you. He’ll never appreciate your power. Your potential._ Those sounded like words directly from his mouth. But what if they were right? I felt my fingers drift from my bare wrist where the Firebird would sit to the scar running across my palm. It reminded me of the simpler days, where I was simply a girl with a hobby of drawing and no parents. The girl with mousy hair who liked to make trouble with the other boy in the orphanage. The girl who almost got hit with The Darkling’s carriage as it drove by, and listened to stories around the fire with fellow soldiers about how he had no soul. 

Now, half those soldiers were dead or looked to me as a saint, and the carriage that almost ran me over had been the one to carry me to the Little Palace once I allowed my powers to surface. This was all too much to process, as each memory flooded back to me like a tsunami. I needed to sleep, but I was too worked up to even blink for too long. I had no idea where anyone was, or the extent of our casualties at the battle. WHat would come of the students? I could have been out for days, but I was too worried to even ask The Darkling such a simple question.

I was not fit to be a queen, yet the promise of power was quite appealing. But, how could I help rule a county, being as I knew nothing of foreigh affairs, or trade routes. What would possess me to allow myself to sit next to that _monster_ on a throne laced with diamonds and gold after everything he took from me. After everything he did. 

_What about everything he gave you_ , the sinister voice echoed. _What about the power?_

It was that voice that rang through my head as I drew a bath, fixed my white hair, and let myself rest in the cool silk sheets of my bed. This time, I didn’t hear Mal, or see Genya’s scars. All I saw was _Sankta Alina,_ light blossoming from her palms, and a golden crown perched on her flowing white hair, It was a direct contrast to her beautiful black _kefta,_ matching the ones dawned by the Starless Saint who stood beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment questions/concerns/constructive criticism:)


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